Another Face-Off

18. Hana

“Well, here goes nothing,” I mumbled. Once I had my seatbelt on, I clutched the steering wheel of Paxton’s SUV—he’d had it shipped out to me so I had something to drive cross-country from San Jose to Houston. I’d gotten the job at NASA, and that was now my new home. The loon seemed to think I was capable of driving this beast after the two lessons he’d given me while I was in Houston last time.

“Crazy man,” I said. But I smiled as I said it. He’d been patient, so like the Pax I remembered, and I’d struggled to pay attention to his instructions because I was busy watching his large hands on the wheel and the shift of light across the contours of his face.

His eyes changed color depending on the sunlight. I’d spent hours and hours studying his eyes while we were growing up. They were beautiful. Long lashed and under thick, nearly broody dark brows. His eyes were always focused on his task, and I’d liked it best when I was his task. Paxton had always made me feel like I was the center of his world when he turned that bright, determined expression toward me.

I shivered, missing it now. As he’d instructed, I depressed the brake and started the ignition. With exquisite care, once the SUV was in drive, I pulled away from the curb and eased into the narrow street. With a sigh of relief, I headed toward the traffic light, going five miles under the speed limit.

By the time I needed gas three hours later, I felt much more confident in my skills, and I turned on the radio, singing along as I sped along I-10. The scenery became less green as I hit the border with Arizona, and I marveled at the height of the saguaro cactus that dotted the landscape.

The last few weeks had been an absolute whirlwind. I was moving in with my ex-boyfriend after accepting the position at NASA. A small, petty part of me had wanted to yell, “Take that, sucker!” at Jeremy when I’d seen him in the coffee shop right after I’d signed my employment agreement, but his hangdog expression—coupled with his loss of Gunnar Evaldson’s funding—had been more than enough recompense for his attempt at ruining my career.

Jeremy had caught my eye and made his way slowly over to me. He’d slid his hands into his chino pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I’m sorry for being such an ass,” he’d told me.

The pinched expression on his face told me the apology had been tough to issue; therefore, I’d chosen magnanimity and nodded.

“You’re going to Houston?” he’d asked.

Ours was a small industry of terrible gossips; he’d known the answer to that question long before I nodded again. His expression had fallen further, as had his shoulders.

“Good luck. It’s an incredible opportunity.”

“Thanks,” I’d said.

He’d swallowed and grimaced. “You’re getting back with the athlete, aren’t you?”

I’d shrugged. “We’re friendly again. I’ve missed him in my life.” I’d leaned in closer. “And just so you know, Paxton studied astrophysics. He recently graduated from Rice University—top of his class. And he was the one to get me interested into the field back in high school.”

I didn’t mention that he’d piqued my interest when we were nine, and he’d built a rocket out of leftover corrugated metal that we’d played in for the next three years. Paxton told the story differently—saying I’d been the reason for his interest in space. I guess who’d captivated whom didn’t matter as much as that we’d both focused on a similar degree.

Jeremy’s eyes had widened. “Guess I was wrong on all counts,” he’d mumbled.

When he’d turned on his heel and walked away, I hadn’t bothered to watch him go. I’d just snapped the plastic lid onto my to-go coffee and smiled as I’d headed out into the watery sunshine, happy to be boxing up my meager belongings and excited to see Paxton.

* * *

By the secondday of the drive, I was stiff from all the sitting, so I took some time to poke through Old Town Albuquerque during an early lunch, enjoying the warm air and the backdrop of Sandia Mountain as I nibbled on green-chile-slathered enchiladas.

“Too bad New Mexico doesn’t have a professional hockey team,” I murmured.

The older gentleman seated at the counter next to me chuckled. “Hija, we don’t have any professional teams. Our whole state population is smaller than most major cities.” He smiled kindly and tipped his head toward the mountain I’d been admiring. “But we got something nicer, no?”

I smiled back, relaxed and lighter now that I was nearly a thousand miles from Jeremy and Space Elevated. “You do. Got any work in the aerospace industry?”

“You haven’t heard of the Space Port? You don’t know about the NASA contract with UNM?” He clucked his tongue. “Definitely not a local.” Again, he smiled. “Let’s just keep that industry between you and me, ’kay?”

He chuckled as he took a bite of his beans, and I nodded. But I was intrigued. It was pretty here. I’d have to find out more about the NASA connections.

I spent that night in a small Texas town that had three motels to choose from, along with two gas stations and a truck stop. My bed was clean, but the food wasn’t as good as the Albuquerque restaurant, so I hustled back on the road in the morning.

Six hours later, I made it to Houston. Or, as Paxton called it, driving hell. After living in a small New England hamlet and then in the tightly packed housing of the Bay Area, I remained unprepared for driving through the Houston sprawl. The edges of the city began with the typical gas stations and truck stops, but those went on and on, interspersed with farmland and strip malls, for miles—until I hit the suburbs with their amalgam of houses and shops and restaurants.

I gasped, feeling growing trepidation as a car slid across the multiple lanes of traffic, missing my bumper by mere inches.

“Oh my…”

Nope, I wasn’t used to this. Culture shock set in harder when I made out the dual downtowns: the first was larger and filled with high-rises that had to be one hundred stories. The second set of skyscrapers was slightly south and west. That, I knew, was the Galleria and the general area of Paxton’s home—the place I would be staying until I figured out what to do about lodging. Despite Paxton’s relentless welcome, I told myself I could still find my own place, if I needed to for any reason.

But it was time to move forward. Was all this serendipity? Had fate decided Paxton and I were meant to be together, or was I reading too much into this newest round of upheaval? Right now, there was no way to know. The only certitude I had was that Houston drivers were aggressive, and this city was actually an amalgam of former townships that had been swallowed in its constant growth.

It took another harrowing forty-five minutes, but I finally pulled into Paxton’s driveway. I cut the engine and closed my eyes, needing a moment to calm down. But then excited chatter heading toward me had me lifting my head.

Ida Jane led the pack, coming toward me confidently with a big wave and bigger smile. Behind her were the four other women I recognized, three of whom had babies strapped to them in various fabric contraptions. The fourth was older by about a decade, with flame-colored hair and the sleekest pair of green glasses I’d ever seen. Paloma, the coach’s wife. She exuded a friendly capability I wanted to achieve.

New life goal added to my list right there.

“You’re here!” Ida Jane said as she opened my door. “I brought the welcoming crew.”

Millie, Keelie, and Naomi, all of whom kept contact with some part of their babies, be it tiny head or bottom, smiled at me and waved.

“They’re sleeping,” Keelie said in a hushed voice. “So we don’t want to jiggle them too much with hugs. But later, we’ll squeeze you hard to show you how happy we are that you’re here!”

I grinned back, excited to spend more time with this great group. “I’ll look forward to the dog pile.”

Naomi snorted. “Girl, don’t give me ideas.”

Paloma offered a bright smile. “Let’s get you out of the car and give those legs a good stretch. Houston traffic is a nightmare no matter the time of day, but any time after about two o’clock and you’re in for it.”

I nodded. My leg throbbed from being still too long, and I wobbled as I stood. Nothing new there, but I hated the pins-and-needles sensation that followed. The women waited patiently, not commenting on my issue, for which I was very thankful.

“Are drivers here always so…”

“Aggressive? Annoying?” Millie asked.

“With a death wish?” Naomi asked. She nodded. “Yes.”

“I’d say you get used to it, and I guess you do, sort of.” Ida Jane wrinkled her nose. “But it’s still shocking when someone tries to rip off your back bumper at seventy miles per hour. I don’t like to drive.”

“Which is why you make Uber or Maxim take you everywhere,” Millie added.

“Not true!” Ida Jane shot back. “I make you drive, too.”

They smiled at each other, and I could see the years of friendship connecting them.

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got, what you need, and what you think of the transformation to the house,” Naomi said.

“And then we’ll watch the game,” Paloma said.

“But not properly because most of us can’t have alcohol,” Naomi said on a sigh.

“I brought some of those mocktail drinkie-things,” Millie said.

“Yay,” Keelie exclaimed. “I call a fake G and T!”

My head bounced around as I tried to process it all. I once again envied these women their strong bond. Would I ever be part of it? I was quiet, preferring to observe rather than dive in, but I should have realized they wouldn’t let me hang on the sidelines exclusively.

“Don’t mind them,” Paloma said kindly. She touched my shoulder, letting me know she was a hugger.

Good. I wanted one of those—many of those—in my life. After spending most of my years deprived of human touch, I was like parched ground to mist. I soaked it up and wished for more. I’d missed Paxton’s easy touch more than just about anything. With him, I’d felt seen, wanted, loved. Since he’d left me, I’d struggled to connect.

“They’re exuberant,” I said.

“We are.” Naomi winked. “Our joie de vivre is half of our charm.”

“What’s the other half?” Millie wanted to know. She shoved her thick, dark frames up her button nose. She was cute in the way many of the women I worked with were: great bone structure and features, long lashes, and a seeming disregard for makeup or even matching clothes.

With Millie, I’d felt an immediate connection. She’d understand my stress about a specific, difficult assignment or research in a way that sensuous and confident Naomi wouldn’t. I wasn’t yet sure about Keelie, who seemed observant and quieter than Ida Jane or Naomi.

“All right. Let’s all grab something from the tailgate and bring it in to Hana’s room,” Paloma said, taking charge.

I had a feeling that was often her role. I clicked open the locks and stood to the side as the women chattered, each grabbing a bag or box from the trunk. Their babies all cuddled in close.

“How did they synchronize the kids’ nap schedules?” I asked Paloma.

She smiled. “They didn’t. But babies tend to sleep better and deeper when connected to their mother.”

“Ah.” Not my most brilliant response, but the only one that came to mind.

Paloma grabbed a bigger box, so I did the same. “Naese said you have a brother.”

“Yes, Aiki.” I bit my lip. “He’s a year older than Paxton. We’re not that close.”

We hadn’t been since he’d broken down and admitted he was jealous of Paxton and had poisoned Mother against him. I hadn’t figured out how—or if—I could forgive him.

“Because of Naese?” Paloma asked. She seemed to already know the answer.

“In part. Aiki was a great athlete, but not as good as Pax.”

Paloma hummed. “Few are. You aren’t the first person to tell me that’s caused discord.” She shook her head. “These guys seem like they have it all—and they have an awful lot, don’t get me wrong—but it’s not as wonderful or easy as outsiders think. Constant jealousy, performance anxiety, the threat of trades and demotions. It can be emotionally as well as physically taxing. That’s why we work so hard to foster relationships between the players and with the CATS. A strong support system makes a huge difference for the players’ and their families’ quality of life.”

“Ending up with the Houston organization saved Cormac,” Keelie said, returning for another box. “He was well on his way to derailment without Silas’s mentorship.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Silas you said so,” Paloma said. She sat her box in the entry hall, and I bent down to do the same.

As I rose, I gasped. “What…” I couldn’t push any more words past my lips—too overwhelmed by Pax’s house. It was perfect. “You…”

“Paxton gave us the scrapbook,” Millie said as she surveyed the space.

“Since you were hesitant to spend your man’s money when you were here before, we decided to help out with the first step, so you’d be comfortable living here,” Naomi said.

“Naomi’s great at finding bargains—and beautiful things,” Ida Jane said with a hint of rancor and a lot of admiration.

“You’re getting there, little grasshopper,” Naomi countered.

They all laughed. I was still dazed by the transformation. The house no longer looked like a single man’s bachelor pad. It looked just like the house I’d planned for us during that last year we were together.

These women and Paxton had recreated my dream home.

“Oh,” I gasped. Tears sprung to my eyes.

I’d spent hours cutting out pictures and taping them into my dreams book. I’d wanted to create what I’d never had: a home. Paxton’s house now had the double crown molding, the shiplap, even the reclaimed wood floors I’d sighed and dreamed over.

I swallowed the lump of emotion building in my throat as I moved to the kitchen. It was the same as when I’d left last month. I took comfort in the glossy, black French stove and hood, all done up in brass. The white cabinets and countertops were spotless, but they warmed me deeply.

“This is…amazing,” I whispered as I turned back to the living room. They’d matched the exact shade of red I’d wanted for the large sectional and loveseat that cozied around a geometric-patterned rug and a low, live-edged cube of wood that had to be two and a half feet across.

“We know it’s not exactly what you had in the book,” Ida Jane said.

“I figured you’d want vegan leather, especially since it was the only place we could get the sectional and loveseat made up in time,” Millie said.

“Y-yes. Vegan? Really? That’s cool.” I smiled.

“The cube coffee table was all Paxton. He saw it and said it was very Hana,” Keelie added, her tone earnest.

These women were nervous. Of my reaction. Even Naomi shuffled her feet—Naomi, the queen of confidence.

“I love it. I—I’m overwhelmed…”

“Don’t show her the bedroom yet,” Ida Jane said from the corner of her mouth, her eyes dancing.

“You decorated the guest room?” I asked.

“Well, sure, but that’s for Paxton.” Naomi decreed as if it was normal to kick the home’s owner out of the primary suite and into a guest one.

I shook my head. Paloma settled her hand on my shoulder. “Paxton wants you in the big bedroom. He said it has a better bathtub for your leg, and he said it was better for you take the stairs as it would help rebuild the muscles around the injury.”

I gulped. “That sneaky—” My chest heaved.

“Oh! We pushed too hard,” Millie moaned.

“We just want you to be happy,” Keelie fretted.

“Are you okay?” Paloma asked quietly.

“Yes.” My voice came out strong and steady. “I am.”

And I was. Because with these alterations to his home and lifestyle, Paxton was showing me he wanted me here. He’d made sure his friends’ wives were here to greet me, even though I’d also texted the CATS to let them know my plans. Some of my fear that he was using me to assuage his guilt melted away much like a chunk of rock eroding under the pressure of a stream.

He loved me. He’d told me so. Now he was showing me. I just had to believe.

I smiled at the women. “I think I need to see this amazing bedroom.”

“I’ll bring up your suitcase,” Paloma said.

“Then we’ll have some tea and cookies,” Ida Jane said.

“She makes the best cookies,” Millie said. “Beware of them. They’re addicting.”

“No way Hana will get to eat that many if Paxton’s around,” Keelie said. “Cormac inhales them, leaving me crumbs.” She shot a glance at the door where Paloma had just gone. “Oof, I probably shouldn’t have said that.”

“No worries.” Naomi waved her hand. “Adam was a constant diet cheater, and he did just fine.” She glanced over at me, her expression filled with pride. “Sixteen years in the league.”

“That is impressive,” I murmured.

“Naese should have as many,” Paloma said as she returned. “Well, as long as he stays healthy.”

“That’s the kicker, isn’t it?” Keelie said on a sigh. “But Adam did, and so has Cruz. I guess we just keep expecting the good?—”

“Even as we prepare for something unexpected,” Millie said with a nod.

That’s what I was doing with Paxton: soaking up the good right now. Still, I should prepare my escape route for when this glorious, almost too-perfect time in my life ended. It always ended—my father’s death, my mother and brother’s disdain, Paxton leaving me, the accident. Every time I thought life was wonderful, it imploded. So, I should look soon to find my own place to live and not rely on Paxton. Why had I agreed to stay with him in the first place?

Well, actually I knew. Paxton had asked nicely, and I’d wanted to agree. But that didn’t make staying here smart. So why did it feel wrong to consider leaving now that I stood looking at everything he’d done for me? I took a deep breath, determined to slow my whirling brain.

* * *

After my emotional arrival,the women and I managed to get my things unpacked and put away in Paxton’s former bedroom. I tried to kick up a fuss about that, but those five women were forces of nature, and I realized quickly that I didn’t stand a chance of winning. I didn’t have much, so I figured I could move out of the beautifully appointed bedroom after they left.

Dragging my hand across the cranberry silk duvet, I sighed, already missing the chance to sleep in the beautiful bed with its mountain of pillows. The rest of the room wasn’t that different from the last time I’d been here, but Paxton had hung up a series of black and white photos of the two of us. They took up an entire wall—a feat considering the room had such high ceilings. The photos started when we were in elementary school. The cascade downward showcased us together at various events from campouts in Paxton’s yard to his hockey games to school dances and prom, and then our college years when we’d been apple picking and skiing.

The montage stole my breath and made my fingers shake as I touched one of the frames. It was my favorite: the image of Paxton and me bundled up after a day on the slopes. I smiled at the camera, rosy-cheeked, and he looked at me with so much love and pride.

“Damn, girl.” Keelie whistled. “That’s one scorching look.”

“Know where that led,” Naomi said as she walked past, patting her waking baby’s bottom as she moved toward the cavernous closet where Paloma was busy hanging up my work clothes.

I looked away. It had led to a hot night of tangled sheets, sweat, moans, and a whole lot of pleasure.

I hadn’t let myself think about that particular part of our relationship for years; losing Paxton had been too painful to even consider revisiting the good times. And that night had been the best, especially when he’d brushed my hair back from my damp forehead and stared deep into my eyes.

“You’re my future,” he’d said.

“You’re my life,” I’d replied as I rested my cheek against him.

“I love you, Hana. So much.”

I’d fallen asleep with his words in my ear, our skin still connected.

Mere months later, he’d broken my heart.

“His dad showed up at a game recently,” Ida Jane said. She studied the pictures.

I turned toward her, but she remained in profile. She reached out and straightened the edge of a frame.

“And?”

Finally, Ida Jane turned toward me. “From what I heard, his dad warned him away from you?—”

“And Luka stepped in and chewed that horrible man’s butt to paste—” Millie began.

“After Naese disowned his parents,” Paloma said. She’d stepped out of the closet, holding one of my blouses on a hanger. “I like this. Where’d you get it?”

“Vintage consignment shop in San Francisco,” I answered. “Pax disowned his parents?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to cause strife between them.”

“You didn’t,” Keelie called from the bathroom. She poked her head out. “Finished putting away your toiletries, and don’t even think about moving out of that gorgeous bathroom or I’ll pinch you. Hard.” She narrowed her eyes.

“Those people and their choices created this situation,” Naomi said. “They’re reaping what they sowed. Don’t worry about them or Naese. We’ve made sure he’s taken care of.” She had a no-nonsense tone that made me wonder what else she’d taken care of.

As I group, we trooped back down the stairs, and I settled between Millie and Keelie as Paloma and Ida Jane whipped up some appetizers to go with the tea and cookies. Evidently we needed fuel to watch the game.

“Don’t worry, we won’t use the stove. That first time is for you and Naese,” Ida Jane said.

My flush made Naomi and Keelie giggle, but Millie was off on the other side of the room, changing her daughter’s diaper. Bree, I’d learned, was the oldest of the babies at seven months. Brooks, Keelie’s son, was five months, and Naomi’s son, Felix, was just past his three-month birthday.

“How’d you manage the timing for that?” I asked.

Naomi snorted. “Copious amounts of sex.” Millie returned in time to fist-bump her. My eyes widened.

Paloma settled a platter or cheese and fruit on the coffee table. “Ignore them, especially Naomi. She’s back in the honeymoon phase post-baby.”

“How do you turn on Naese’s TV? I swear, these guys have more remotes than NASA,” Keelie griped.

I giggled. “No, they don’t. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Paxton tried. He wanted to be an aerospace engineer.”

All of the women turned to focus on me. “Well, I didn’t expect that,” Naomi murmured.

“Do tell,” Millie said. “I adore the thought of Naese with a pocket protector.”

“Oh my gosh.” Naomi gasped. “He would be the hottest guy in that room.” She waved a hand in front of her face.

I couldn’t help but giggle again.

“Here, you do it,” Keelie said, exasperated. She dropped five remotes in my lap. After studying them for a few moments, I managed to turn on the TV and get it to the right channel for the game.

“Apparently it takes a NASA scientist to turn on the jerk’s television,” Millie said. She winked to let me know she was joking.

“Now, spill the goods,” Ida Jane said. She popped a grape in her mouth and looked at me expectantly.

“What do you want to know?”

Millie leaned forward. “Everything.”

“I already told you?—”

“About the breakup,” Naomi said, leaning forward. “But we want to know all the goods on Naese.”

The other women nodded.

So, I started talking.